RPlog:Kashyyyk Infiltration
The passenger deck of the Corellian Corvette was occupied by a platoon of Imperial infantry, dressed in jungle camoflague and equipped properly for the enviornment and troubles that lay ahead as the ship coursed through hyperspace towards the Wookiee homeworld. Pieces of military equipment lay in the cargo hold; speeder bikes, disassembled E-webs, among other stuff. Danik Kreldin, clad in full combat gear, strolled into the passenger deck and told the team they would be arriving in ten minutes and to get ready. It was a simple mission; distrupt activities on Kashyyyk and cause as much damage as possible. Should be easy, right? Corporal Whorus was busy at work, having his men ready and prepared an hour in advance as was his manner. He was always anxious to start doing what he loved- fighting. This meant lots of downtime, infantry standing around all dressed up with nowhere to go. But Whorus wasn't about to let their focus waver for a single second. "This planet has a lot of hostile native life, so be careful. Wookiees everywhere." He scowls, pacing in a lane between the soldiers who simply stand and wait with much less nervous energy than their commanding officer. "The Rebels have those dumb beasts armed," He continues his loud oration, "so watch out. Respect their power, but don't respect them." "I think we've all been on missions like this before. You know the targets. Vehicles. Anything that looks electronic. If I feel comfortable we may start some fires." Whorus' eyes are red with veins and blood. His sharp teeth bare just breifly before his talking turns to barking. His hands gripping opposite wrists behind his back. "I get the impression that some of you aren't in the mood I want you to be in." Indeed, some of them were talking while Whorus spoke. But now that his voice was raised, they had no choice but to look over. "So we're going to sing some Imperial battle hymns." Kreldin stood to the back of the passenger deck, listening to Corporal Whorus give his men the prep talk. The Wookiees shouldn't be too much of a problem; dumb beasts. Strong, but dumb. They could outsmart them. Not everything relied on brute strength. "Imperial battle hymns, eh?" Danik spoke up. "How about the Battle Hymn of the Black Stars?" he said, smiling. Most of the soldiers here probably knew the hymn, as it was played at several Imperial functions. The Black Stars were the most famous starfighter squadron in galactic history - and he was their founder and leader. They didn't exist anymore, but they lived on through the Battle Hymn. Groans all around, except of course from those troops who are interested in ingratiating themselves with commanding officers, who pretend to love the idea. "I have papers that say I'm authorized to have any of you injected with whatever I wish. Don't confuse me into having you diagnosed as lethargic." They knew what that meant. A double dose of battle stimulants and irreversable liver damage. They shut up and wait for Whorus to lead. Whorus stiffens up, standing like an arrow as he is adressed by Danik. He salutes. "SIR, VERY WELL." He shouts, hoping to inspire equal obdedience in his subordinates. His body language then relax as he turns back to his troops. "You heard the man." He bonks one of his troops with the barrel of his blaster rifle, getting the unified shouting started. Melodious singers, they were not. As Whorus forces his men to begin singing, Kreldin joins in in singing the Battle Hymn. However, when it ends, he pats Whorus on the shoulder and grins. "Go easy on them, Corporal. Don't want to piss them off now, do you?" Although Kreldin was not with the Imperial Ground Forces, he had been in the armed forces for thirty-six years as an officer, so he knew how things were done. "Anyway, enough singing...let's go over our battle plan once more before arriving, shall we?" Whorus naturally had his own opinion, but wasn't the type to contradict a superior officer. "Yes sir. Men, shut up." They seemed used to such treatment. In a way, you had to like pain to be a soldier, as well as be a bit of an animal. It was Whorus' job to focus their agression. "Listen up, cause this is what we're doing." He then falls silent, letting Danik take over and get to the meat of whatever plan he had. The corvette reverted to real space after its long trip from Corellia. Danik Kreldin had the platoon of troops ushered into the cargo holds to get them off as soon as they landed. Passing through the planet's atmosphere, the Corvette angled towards the planet's surface, avoiding the the normal ports atop the tree line. After several minutes the corvette touched down in a clearing on the planet's surface, where the local population rarely traversed. The ramp extended and allowed the troops to depart; the platoon of men, clad in jungle camo, quickly disembarked from the Corvette and set up a perimeter immediately. Whorus stomps down the ramp last, not saying anything, not giving commands. There was nobody to shoot, and so his blood wasn't rushing. But he was exactly where he wanted to be. He stands indistinguishable from his men, looking and pointing his rifle into the dark wilderness. Far from stomping, far from making any noise whatsoever, Director Petra Doom excorsises her inner demons with this little jaunt. Slipping down the ramp with her rifle aimed and ready she scans up, down, left, and right making sure it is clear before she silently makes her way to her position, covering the next person to exit the ship. Going down to one knee, she beckons with two fingers to the next two soldiers to move forward in the classic staggered positions as the landing site is secured. Lifting her wrist to her mouth she breathes into it, "a little less noise gentlemen..." Kneeling she keeps watch until ordered further beyond the initial perimeter. Adjusting the load bearing equipment over his BDU's, Major Anatoli Black as he makes his way down the ramp. Getting himself assigned to this operation had been the simplest of things, with his connections in the Empire, most everything was simple. A Major from a Deep Core commando troop getting assigned to the Frontier fleet, in the tens of thousands of troops deployed in that fleet, names and individuals become meaningless. The fact that he had never served a day in his life with these troops was just as meaningless in an Army that deemed rank more important than individuals, not something he had to deal with in his time in the Legions and among the vaunted Royal Guard. Barking out orders to a few Non-coms around him, they begin to deploy, " Open up your firing lines and make sure that your field of fire is interlocked with the position to both your left and right, I don't want any errors." He makes his way to a position from which he can observe others, hand instinctively reaching to his belt, the sheathed vibro-blade providing the perfect concealment for something else, "No..we won't be needing that." He mutters to himself as he allows the natural combat senses inherit in any true warrior to take over, taking in the lay of the land as well as the attitudes of the men, and women around him. Aboard the Redeemer, an MC-80 that is the Flagship of the local NR picket fleet warning klaxons go off as the sensor-perimeter perimeter around Kashyyyk's space is disturbed by an unauthorized unjump and so firings its mighty engines the graceful star-cruiser moves closer to the indicated coordinates to investigate, expecting to find some smugglers or pirates.. and indeed it is a CorCrv, favored by both groups.. so with its shields charging and weapons powering up the Redeemer hails the unwelcomed visitor "Unidentified corvette, this the NRSC Redeemer, you have entered Kashyyyk airspace.. please stand down and prepare to be boarded for a customs inspection.." But it seems that the smaller ship won't comply and the Redeemer is too far to effectively engage, though it still keeps burning through space at maximum acceleration to at least block it's escape vector. On the bridge of the NR capship the Captain just sighs and turns to his XO "Alert the local authorities that they got some unexpected visitors and plot me the possible landing coordinates based on that ship's last known trajectory.. and alert the Marines, get them geared up.. we might need to hot drop them if the wooks can't make it to the landing site in time." %r And for the first time since this space-chase begun the marines on board also get placed on full alert, though most of them were already suiting up and moving toward their drop-pods, grinning under their helmets, finally some excitement.. a much welcomed change from the boring, routine life aboard the Redeemer.. and there's few things more fun than being fired out of a giant magnetic accelerator, into the planet's atmosphere then land using their disposable repulse-gear.. yes, few things can be that much fun.. well, few things that one does fully clothed that is.. (Ta) Nol'Fet the wookiee looks up into the night sky as a sudden flash appears over head. Quirking his shaggy head, he begins moving towards the direction he saw the flash moving. His extremely large frame moves through the trees with surprising agility as he stealthily maneuvers through the foliage. His dark brown hair keeps him warm as he moves through the cool night air. He his armed with only a small vibro knife, fastened inside a holster on his hip. A small flash can be seen through the undergrowth, and Nol'Fet moves towards it, figuring that as the flash he had seen. As he nears the area, he climbs up into a tree and watches the unknown humans down below and about a hundred meters off. Staying at his post, he shrinks down as much as possible and watches with a curioius eye. (Ridge) Savine Wolfray had everything going for him. His father was an influential up-and-coming businessman. His wife was at home on Corellia expecting their child. Savine joined the Republic military for the experience. His father had been in the Old Republic fleet and then an officer in the Rebellion during the civil war. He was continuing a long standing tradition. And he had his whole life ahead of him. He slapped his helmet gently as he prepared to follow his comrades into a potential battle. It had been a while since anything exciting had happened. While this made his young wife very happy, he was bored with his post on the Redeemer. He checked his weapon idly, unable to fight the excited grin off of his face. He had trained a long time for this opportunity. A low rumbling hum of sublight engines is heard emanating from the upper canopy of the great trees of Kashyyyk. A heavily modified YT2400 freighter swoops in, effortlessly dodging the thick trunks. The ship's thrusters engage, slowly settling it on one of the larger platforms carved into a tree limb. It takes a few minutes, but the ramp extends, and a rather large, slightly aged Wookiee steps off of the ramp. He flicks a small switch on a bracer, and the ramp receeds back into the Chimduster. Surveying his surroundings, the Wookiee's eyes fall upon the large group of offworlders - quite an odd sight on this ancient planet. (speaking in Shyriiwook) The only sounds the platoon makes is a faint beeping noise- the sound of a handheld radar/map combination. It was held by one of the darkly camoflauged imperial infantrymen. Whorus peers over from the center of the group. The private looks up and points off in the distance. Whorus nods his head and waves the group on, leading a brisk march through the foliage. There was no doubt that their entry was seen. Now, time was of the essence. Complete the mission and then get out, quick. Flipping open his tactical computer, Major Black punches in coordinates, "At least those fly boys dropped us within five klicks of the target this time, rather than over a hundred like on Tychus Three." Motioning the squad leaders together he lays the display down, pointing to them, "Alpha Squad, you will take point, Delta and Theta will cover each flank and Epsilon will bring up the rear." A flick of the stylus over the platform, " Rebel troops will be onto our presence by now. So expect some sort of response, they probably don't know we are Imperial yet, but we can't count on that. The Communications relay is our primary target, intel does point to a medical supply depot half a klick further in, it is a target of opportunity." He tests his comlink before sending the squad leaders off, "Ready your men." Flicking his comlink to the command freqency he looks back at the Corvette's bridge, not that it matters, "Okay Commander, seal it up. Anyone approaches without flashing the proper signal, light them up. If we aren't back by dawn, get out of here." Not that it would be a concern. He prepares himself for the coming battle, waiting for his squad leaders to check back in. As he does the hydralic sound of the Corvette's boarding ramp can be heard, sealing the ship off and leaving the Platoon of IGF troopers on their own, in a very hostile world. With a nod, Petra silently points upwards to three of her men, straight ahead to, two others, and the last two point pistols downwards slightly. She adjusts her rifle strap slightly and moves her Delta squad to the right flank. Murmering to her group she comments, "Night vision on...lets go...be sure to keep an eye up in those trees, I don't fancy company dropping uninvited into our party." Donning his helmet and making sure that his suit is now air-tight PFC Bastirio follows after Cpl Kyndra, his squadron's second in command, wondering how this drop will end.. unlike all the others in his squad,, for the young Corellian boy this will the fist real combat drop.. sure, he's done it hundreds of time during training ops.. but now there are real bad-guys down there.. bad guys who will kill him if they can.. so he'll just have to do his best not to let that happen.. As the line keeps moving he runs a quick check of his suit, <>.. on line, <>.. locked and ready but on safe, <>.. uplink initializing, ready to accept telemetry from the Redeemer once he's on the ground. Then stepping into his pod he simply stands still as the techs close the shells around him, chewing gum in the dark with his slightly worried face reflecting from the red-illuminated faceplate of his helmet right back at him.. so with a smirk he sticks his tongue out at himself just as with a jar his pod gets loaded into the tube.. just a few more seconds.. and whoooosss.. he's airborn, or spaceborn.. heading toward the planet faster than the speed of sound.. "Yeeeeeeehhhhhaaaaa." he yells out, knowing that no one can hear him with his com-system turned off. A few seconds of discomfort as his pod plunges deep into the atmosphere.. and his suit has to struggle to keep the internal temperature somewhat.. bearable.. This is the part every drop-troop hates the most, even more than being under effective enemy fire.. then once he's through the planet's heat barrier the outer shells explode away form the inner ones and his primary chutes open to slow his descent.. Another 10 seconds ticks away.. then the chutes cut away.. and so the his inner shells.. leaving the young trooper now freefalling toward the ground, using his mini thrusters to control his descent as he's trying to pick a suitable landing site.. based on the translucent map generated in the upper left corner of his faceplate's HUD. (Ta) The wookiee flattens himself against the tree limb as the off-worlders begin to fan out from the ship. Keeping a careful eye on the intruders, he spots the weapons in there arms and emits a low growl, disgust and anger beginning to rise. He spots another flash in the sky as YT-2400 lowers to the ground a distance from the Imperials. Amazingly, none of them had seemed to notice, or just didn't care. Focusing on the figure emerging from the craft, Nol'Fet recognizes it as a wookiee like him. And if it had seen the men with guns, it would be just as angry as him. Not sure who would have spotted the men other than himself and the other wookiee, Nol'Fet decides to do something about it. Climbing down quickly from the tree, he begins to move towards the new craft in a wide circle, not wanting to be seen by the off worlders. On his way he rips a thick brach from a nearby tree and shoulders it, it's life-sap still oozing, and continues his movement. "Something to do here, at last..." mutters Yarah Ravenlocke, already suited up and in the same drop-team as Wolfray, though the comment is not aired at anyone in particular, merely a reflection on her current mood, expectant. With no immediate family, that makes this troop, these people the closest ones she has, and her stay on Kashyyyk is like a stay anywhere else; she simply doesn't mind. Checking her weapons, her armor, verifying that everything is in order, there is excitement warring with concern on her mind. Some ship, could be anything, but... Well, she's just following orders here. "All ready sir." she says, everything in place, ready to go... Of course, this is her first drop, and the experience is... well, there are no words, or at least, the ones crossing the young woman's mind are a mix of amused and annoyed, not easy to describe. This is just supposed to be a routine inspection of an unidentified ship, yeah right... (Shau) Taking his place inside the drop pod, Savine closes his eyes as 'the tomb' is sealed around him. If the pod malfunctioned in the slightest, he could end up buried dozens of feet or deeper under the Kashyyyk jungle-floor, trapped inside the pod. The tomb, he called it. It never happened. Savine liked to joke about it. Many of his superiors did when he was new to the drop-troop squad on the Redeemer. Just to scare the cherries, he told himself. He was ready. The pod fired planetward, and Savine's grin returned. The best part was yet to come, but his adrenaline was pumping. He knew that, around him, his squad-mates were on the same rapid descent. The pod grumbled as it passed through the upper atmosphere before the outer-shells gave to the final stage of the pod. The super-deceleration was like being on a lift that broke and was plummeting toward the bottom of its destinations. Eventually, it slowed and gave way, and Savine found himself seeing the ground for the first time. His eyes lit up. He lived for the drop. The mini-thrusters guided him toward the ground at a more controlled rate. He had to pick his landing carefully. Not too thick, not too open; not too close, not too far. Bringing up the rear of the patrol is a rather unknown Trooper. Wearing the uniform and insignia of a Grunt, the Soldier moves with such elegance and grace through the bush, that any member of the military could identify him as a seasoned participant of many battles. Former Stormtrooper Master Sergeant Maethor N'kurk Savage, blaster rifle held in a relaxed low ready position, pulls rear security for the younger Imperial ground troops. Leaving his NOD's clipped to his helmet, knowing the impossibility of being able to tell a hole in the ground from a splotch of dark foliage, the Veteran relies on his sense of hearing and eyesight to pick out any anomalies, following behind the last member of the patrol, every so often turning to look behind him, making sure the group dosen't leave too much of a trail. Rharkyrtha clenches his fists in anger. Imperials? Here? Well, that just won't do. The large furred creature loads his rifle with an energy cell, and stretches his muscles, emitting a low growl of mixed excitement and anger. As he extends his claws to dig into a nearby tree, he notices the other Wookiee, with a large branch in tow. Extending an arm, waving, he ducks behind his ship and waves his fellow over. (speaking in Shyriiwook) The YT-2400 landing in a nearby starport doesn't seem to draw as much attention is it might. However the meteor like streaks of the drop pods burning through the atmosphere is noticed, " Well, it looks like we didn't come all this way for nothing." He relays to the platoon leaders, " Drop pods detected breeching the atmosphere, don't let them penetrate our perimeter." His voice is barely above a whisper as he sub-vocalizes, night vision equipment still in his pouch as he draws on other, more sinister forces to help guide him through the night. Gloved fingers curl around the grip of his carbine as he moves as silently as a Vornskyr from Myrkr, and just as deadly, looking down at his chrono, they are making good time, almost a kilometer down, they would be at their target soon enough, as the Imperial Major focuses his attention back on the mission at hand. Flipping her NOD's upwards, former head of the Imperial Stormtroopers current Director of BofO Petra Doom closes her eyes for a moment to let her eyes readjust and just listens. Opening her eyes, the woman nods at the order and gestures for her team to spread out enough to cover the perimeter as the painted and camouflaged group slips silent through the jungle night towards the target. Once on the ground.. or more like.. on some huge branch.. PFC Bastirio smashes one armored fist against his repulsor-harness, shedding the now useless gear to free his weapons that were till now restrained underneath.. and as soon as he does his HUD indicator's <> tab changes from the grayed out 'LOCKED' to the red 'READY' one. Then with that he just crouches low for a second and waits to get a solid signal feed from the Redeemer, an update for his <>, then when he does he just frowns at the location of the other blue dots.. it seems that the hasty drills have caused his platoon to spread out a lot farther than they should have, a lot farther than the Lt. would like.. someone's gonna get chewed out over this fiasco for sure.. "Red 5 to any Red Callsigns, I'm at grid 54354, 01821 approximately 2 kicks from our projected RV, I got no hostiles in my immediate area, proceeding to coordinates on the bounce.." and with that he levels his A280 and switches his helmet to low-light mode to compensate for the dark, gloomy forest.. then moving with practiced skill and grace he starts heading toward the glowing green circle labeled as 'Nav-1' on his tactical map even as the reply cracks into his headset "Red Leader, roger, out." (Ta) Whorus scowls out at the foliage, Letting two of his men lead the way. After all, he couldn't get himself killed in a trap or by some sort of wild animal. He had to lead. "Vaygus, Tildt, eyes up." He commands quietly. As the most anxious of the squad leaders he made the swiftest of progress. Unfortunately, he was more interested in watching for hostiles than keeping platoon formation. Staying low to the ground as he dashes through the foliage, Nol swears harshly as he loses sight of the craft. Well, no matter. He was a wookiee, and they were human, afterall. Changing his bearings towards the scattering armed humans, Nol' begins a jog, staying low and moving fast, trying to make as little noise as possible. It wasn't hard either, for he'd grown up on the jungle planet. Holding his tree limb still on his shoulder, he heads in the same direction as the Imperials, slowly catching up. Surviving the drop? Check. Nothing broken? Check. Getting out of the harness, etc? Check. Signals, weapons, comm devices? All working so far. "Red 4 here, proceeding on to the appointed coordinates..." PFC Ravenlocke answers as she hears both Red 5's report and Red Leader's response, slowly making her way through the dark, thick forest. <> the young human female thinks as she maneuvers through the dense foliage, her blaster rifle at the ready, her senses focused on the task at hand. (Shau) Savine drops through the canopy of the trees. As the ground grew closer and closer, he grabbed on to the emergency release for his harness. With careful precision, he pressed the button and the backpack broke free. His rifle fell free into his waiting hand, and he tucked into a roll as he touched the ground. He lifted his rifle and peered through the sights, looking for potential targets. Nobody there. "Red 12 to Red Leader," he breathed through the com unit in his helmet. "I have touched down about a half a click from our target. Over." He held his breath as he waited for a reply. Several seconds passed before a voice crackled across the com, "Red 12, stay low and regroup. Out." With a nod to no one but himself, Savine began to move forward, his low crouch making him difficult to spot but not altogether impossible. "My wife is gonna kill me," he sighs quietly, a weak smile returning to his face. It did not last long. The fun was over. This was business. Maethor glances skyward, smirking to himself as all he sees is a bunch of treetops and branches. He does however catch the faint rustling in the foliage behind him. Taking the Trooper infront of him, he breaks off from the main group, spreading out into a loose line, forming a loose ambush position. The two Soldiers being placing Imperial-style Claymore mines on some of the tree's, orienting them away from the patrol as they get into positions to ambush whatever may sweep in from behind. It had gotten him in trouble before. He hadn't been able to hear over the hard beats of the music he had managed to somehow pump into his head gear. Karn hadn't heard the tell-tale crackling of a frayed power coupling and that mistake nearly had burned down an entire barracks. Luckily for him, the incident hadn't cost him much more than extra PT, a severe tounge lashing from his CO and a week's worth of cleaning the latrine. Does anyone really need to get pumped up to go into battle? You'd think the thought of possibly getting shot, or worse, would be enough to get the andrenaline flowing, but not for Karn. Though at a much lower decible level this time, the music was still pumping through his head gear. You could see him rocking to the beat as the hatch to his pod sealed. You could still see him swaying and bobbing his head as the hatch came off the pod. He was ready this time. Quickly, the rifle is off the shoulder and into his arms. His senses were awake now. He hadn't had much more than a few days training on Kashyyyk, but he felt confident enough with the surroundings...perhaps too confident. "Red leader." he says a little too loudly into the com, "this is Red 12." his voice more moderated now. "At the landing zone and awaiting further instructions. Kreldin took a backrow seat once the team set out on its mission, as he was not in the Army; he was letting the right officers do their job. He was an advisor, after all, and he was getting a bit old. Nevertheless, Kreldin was equipped quite properly for this occassion; his newly acquired enhanced armor and weaponry gave him confidence he usually didn't have when engaged in ground combat. As the team progressed through the jungles of Kashyyyk towards the communication array, Kreldin watched as Maethor planted the mines and as the pods fly overheard; apparently the rebels had caught on to their little plot. He takes out his two .48 blasters and prepares himself for the coming battle. Major Anatoli Black checks in with his squad leaders again as they move closer to their target, two klicks away from the Corvette. Lightly Armored and moving among the high ground foliage allows the troopers to almost disappear, ground sweeping radar wouldn't be able to pick them up and only the most astute trooper could differentiate their heat from the warmth of the planet's surface. However for the moment they are still not near any of the spotted drop points, at least not the vanguard element of the formation. As Maethor breaks off, Major Black focuses his own senses towards the tree tops. A sadistic smile coming to his lips as he slings his carbine, drawing out the dual bladed vibro weapon from his hip, the blades still sheathed in the half-meter long handle, gloved fingers toy with the activation switch, these Rebels were in for a hell of a suprise. Fear, anger, and rage all swirling around in the air around him, empowering him as he pulls the Dark Side of the Force around him, letting it strengthen and empower him as he makes his way towards one of the flanking platoons, Doom's to be exact, "I must be sad for you in times like this, Petra Doom, that you cannot see with true eyes what is about to happen here." His voice is dark and almost inhuman as his eyes take on the slighest yellow tint to them. Presumably the procession of imperial troops would reach the vicinity of their target- a communications array. That was the depth to which Whorus was familliar with it. The wide-eyed group leader whispers into his communicator. "We're getting close. Requesting permission to engage at will." Of course. Whorus wanted to engage at will at all times. The finer points of group tactics were lost on his agressive, hyperactive personality. Humming a cheerful tune in her head, Petra inclines her head and murmers softly to Anatoli Black, "Indeed Master, but I am happy to see what is about to happen with what eyes the Goddess gave me." She gives a slow smile as she gestures for some of her team to take up their positions at the perimeter and for all of them to lift their NOD's away from their eyes. Moving quickly at first as he knows that his immediate area is secure PFC Bastirio manages to cover most of the ground to the RV.. 2 kicks in just under 10 minutes or so.. even with all his gear on he has no trouble to maintain an easy jog, though close to the actual co-ords he's forced to pause for a few seconds and get an update on his <>.. there.. and with that his weapon comes up.. and his right eye is now focused on the small image that popped up on his HUD, a direct feed from his A280's optical sight.. tracking, tracking.. Then as some local creature ambles out from behind a large tree the young Corellian soldier just chuckles and lowers his weapon, disengaging the targeting feed as well even as the furry little thing disappears into the underbrush. "Almost shot you, stupid thing.. Gosh, I'm getting a little jumpy.." he smirks under his helmet, making fun of his own nervousness, then after a deep breath he just levels the weapon keeps moving, much slower at this point for he does not want to run into an enemy ambush.. for he knows that the arrival of 40 some drop-troops must not have gone unnoticed by the smugglers. "Red 5 to any Red Callsigns, I'm almost at the RV, entering the area on a bearing of 4350 mills, ETA 1 minute.." (Ta) Still low to the ground, and still jogging, the large wookiee shifts the limb on his shoulder, trying to find a more comfortable position. Weaving adeptly through the trees without a sound, Nol'Fet ponders climbing a tree to check his position, and to see if he could spot the off-worlders. Deciding it to be a good idea, he sets the tree limb carefully on the ground and climbs up a nearby tree, slowly and carefully, making extra sure not to give away his position. Scanning the area, he looks behind him and spots both fightercraft, the Corvette not too far off, and the 2400 not too far beyond that. Looking forward, he spots several spots of rustling in the undergrowth and grins to himself, hurt obviously on his mind. Commiting the location of the nearest rustling to memory, the wookiee drops to the ground and picks up his crudely fashioned weapon and moves towards it. Nearing the location, Nol'fet moves very carefully into position behind the hunched over figure and lifts his weapon, preparing to bring it down onto the off-worlder's skull. Just before swinging, he spots a patch on the uniform, signifying the wearer as a member of the New Republic. Dropping the weapon to his side, he reaches forward and gently taps the figure on the shoulder. While doing so, he recognizes the figure as female. If the figure were to turn, she would see the wookiee holding his finger to his lips, the universal sign of "Quiet!" For silence was key to this operation, and there was probably going to be a language barrier besides. Furthermore, if she were to turn, she would see the Wookiee pointing in a direction forward to where she had been previously facing. She could then choose to follow him or stay behind (Ridge) If PFC Ravenlocke where to imagine just how -close- she got to having her head smashed by a big hairy Wookie wielding a tree limb while in the middle of a recon on Kashyyyk, she would have said that someone was joking. And of course, given that the Wookie is on his turf, Yarah got only a spare couple of seconds warning before she feels the tapping on her shoulder, and recognizing the gesture, proceeds to murmur her status and what info she can garner from the Wookie's gesture to Red Leader over her comm unit, waiting then for instructions before following the local. (Shau) He had grown tired of waiting for orders. He had be briefed, he'd known what the plan was, might was well get a head start on everyone and gain back some respect in the eyes of his superiors. It had only be a few days of training on-planet, but it was one thing Karn had, it was good sense of direction...Direction is something that's fairly easy for someone who's from a temperate planet with little to no, foiliage. Not much but clouds ever covered the sun on Karn's planet, so it was alway easy to find at least one direction and get your bearings. When you are in the deep recesses of the Kashyyyk jungles, however, it's very easy to get dissoriented. He'd done it again, he'd been walking for a good 10 minutes now and was no where near the location he should have been at 5 minutes ago. What was he going to do, call in and tell everyone that he was lost? Maybe they wouldn't notice that he wasn't around. When the action start, he told himself, he'd be able to find them by following the sound. "Listen for them," he told himself. As he continued blindly, eyes wide open through the foiliage of Kashyyyk. (Coryn) "Distance to the communications array?" Danik asked into his comlink, tapped into the frequency used by the troops. His path illuminated by his built-in NVG, Kreldin looked about the surrounding area and pulled up his built-in sensors, taking a scan of the area. Lot of wild life, and a few other signals that stood out against the rest. "Major Black, I've picked our friends on the sensors. They're close, and approaching from behind.." he said into his comlink, his head turning around to take a look behind them to see if he could see any of them. Moving out from the squad on the right flank, Major Black feels the impending destinies of so many beings closing on their own demise. The comlink in his ear chirping as danik radio's him, "The lead element is two klicks from the contact point, Captain, it would seem that blood will litter this world as well as broken steel and concrete." He makes his way along the right side of the formation, moving through the jungle as if he were a native of this world. His fingers curl around the hilt of the vibro-weapon, ready to unleash it's fury as he sub-vocalizes another set of orders, the rear most squad seperates from the rest of the formation, forming a skirmish line in the woods as they train their blasters towards the rear, giving Maethor and his ambush time to work before they move into action as well. Whorus is tempted ever so feircely by a small rodent-like animal who scurries about under the brush. He wanted to kill it so bad, but couldn't afford to let his guard down. He knew that he probably had the best eyes of his fireteam. "I hate nature." He sourly mutters out, beginning to tap his earpiece impatiently, waiting for the signal to strike. "Remember soldiers, don't spare the grenades. Throw two at a time. Throw them when you're stopping to take a break. Just don't die with any of them still left strapped to your belt." With most of 2 Platoon at their designated RV the Lt. checks his <> and just sighs at seeing how some of his troops are still too far to make it in time "Red Lead to any straggling Red Callsigns, we're moving to Nav-2, make your way over there and link up with the depth squad.." then with that he kills his com-system and switching to his command freq he issues freg orders to his 3 squad leaders.. then the 25-someodd drop-troops fan out and start moving in on the smugglers in a 2 up formation. PFC Bastirio is amongst them, glad to have finally linked up with the rest of his 'toon, moving in line with the rest of first squad, being fourth in the order of match.. And now the NR platoon is advancing faster, leap-frogging forward.. so someone is constantly scanning the area they are moving through to ensure they're not running into an ambush, while at the same time also moving as quickly as possible.. ready to close with and destroy the enemy.. which is what they're trained to do.. (Ta) Nodding at the female's compliance, the large wookiee moves away, checking back every once and a while to make sure the human was still following. Moving silently through the trees, he hears movement up ahead and pauses. Scouting ahead carefully, he leaves his tree limb leaned against a tree and wields his vibro knife. Grinning, he sees a miniature picket line covering the rear of the group ahead. Fading back carefully, he goes back to where he left his larger weapon. Motioning the female towards him, he points to the gun she carries in her hand, and then points to an area of the woods where he judged a few of them to be. Turning back, he grabs his staff and maneuvers his way through the jungle to one of the men on the picket line. Hiding behind a small tree, he climbs up carefully and quietly and scoots out across a branch until he is almost over the man. Holding his staff in one hand, he jumps down, plummeting 17 feet towards the ground, landing right in front of the off-worlder. Quickly spinning, he gives the soldier a vicious kick to the gut, and then a merciless swing to the skull, landing both with skilled precision. Though the clunk of the wood against the skull made an extremely loud *CLUNK* noise, and Nol'Fet had let out a loud yell without noticing. Hunching down over the body, he waited for the woman to start opening fire and other soldiers to close in on him. Noticing the Imperial decoration on the man's uniform, he lets out another growl and resists the urge to stomp the body. Listening to the instructions received over her comm unit, Yarah then nods to her tall companion and starts to follow the Wookie's guidance, giving a report to her leader on everything she's able to perceive in regards to the task at hand, though of course, once the Wookie attacks and as a result, her position is revealed, it's either shoot, or be shot at. And she definitely intends to be the one doing the shooting. Getting as much cover from the dense foliage as it is possible without having it impeding a clear line of sight, she's basically covering up for the wookie, after she gives the coordinates so that the rest of her troop can reach her for backup... The fight had started; Danik could hear over his comlink that a Wookiee had attacked several troops to the rear. He turned himself around and made his way towards where his sensors indicated the fighting was. Thanks to his NVG, he could see a single Wookiee beating up several of the troops that had been assigned to bring up the rear. With his two .48 pistols in hand, Kreldin took to the air with the jetpack attached to the back of his enhanced armor, hovering overhead the Wookiee and the rear troops fighting it, firing several blasts from his .48 down at the hairy beast. As reinforcements movie towards the starting fire fight, Anatoli Black allows a pair of the Republic soldiers to pass, finger depressing the activation switch of the weapon clutched in his hands, the vibro blades springing from their sheath inside the pommel of the weapon as the former Royal Guardsmen turned Sith Warrior steps into the fray. He lashes out with the razor sharp weapon, one of it's blades slipping deftly in-between the armor plates at one of the trooper's neck, unimpeded it seperates muscle, flesh, and bone before exiting through the other side of the man's neck. A quick flick of the wrist brings the blade back around and detaches the jump soldier's head from his body. With an impatient look does Horus continue his agressive tapping of his headset. "We're getting attacked from the rear? Hello?" His fireteam watches with anxious eyes. They heard the magic word. "Damn it. Permission to break off and persue primary objectives?" The corporal asks, skimming the area with his sharp, veiny eyes, looking for the Alpha team leader to consult with. As more and more Imperials soldiers close in on him, Nol'Fet grins and begins spinning the mini-tree trunk he holds in his hand. Having beat down several men, the wookiee drops to the ground, hoping to keep himself out of blaster fire. He had no range weapons, so he had to be careful. 'Should have brought a sling,' he thinks to himself. As two blaster bolts singe the ground around him, the giant wookiee looks up and sees a figure in the sky, opening fire from above. Growling, Nol'Fet rolls quickly to the side and jumps up, diving behind a tree. Noticing the woman not too far off, he lets out a huge war cry, hoping to get her attention. If she notices, she would see him gesturing to the man flying above him. As a sudden thought occurs to him, he lets out another growl and charges towards the area where he had dropped the soldiers. Launching his tree-limb towards the man above like a spear, he dives upon an Imperial rifle. Running back to his cover, he begins opening fire on the other soldiers. Soldiers down, a Wookie gone kamikaze crazy... Orders start to come down from High Command: the troops should divide, with 2 sections doing an skirmish line, 3rd section armed with heavy firearms providing support, moving at an angle, trying to cut off the Imperials from their apparent target. And the order is given to start shooting... Needless to say, what ensues is just not going to be pretty, since the NR troops will do whatever possible to curtail the advance of the Imperials... Meanwhile, PFC Yarah Ravenlocke is still with the aforementioned Kamikaze Wookie... "Oh well, what the heck... Yeah, yeah, I saw you... I'll fire..." Still under cover of trees, she starts firing at whatever seems to be moving near the Wookie, she knows that already the shoot out started close to where they are, she heard the orders, and the Wookie is certainly not helping the 'cover' factor, so, well... As the Republic Marines engage the rear guard, the Imperial troops in the vanguard proceede onto the target unimpeded. IGF Commando's keeping their fire discipline as they return fire, Light repeating blasters in each fire team increase the amount of supressing fire they are able to lay out, behind the approaching NR Forces, Maethor's ambush and Korolov and Kreldin closing the noose on the NR Forces. The skirmish line suffers heavy casulties, but very few forces can survive when surrounded and cut off, and one by one the heavily armored Republic Marines are taken out, either from the rapidly diminishing number of Imperial Ground Force Blasters, Anatoli's blades, Danik's slug throwers and Maethor's grenades, it is only a matter of time. Kashyyyk Infiltration